I am one distracted adult. It is 7 pm on a Thursday night and I am on the second last row in my Geology class of 60 students, fidgeting in restlessness, ready to leave for the day. Right, my legs can’t always wander, so this imaginative mind takes over for it. Somewhere in between plate tectonics and earthquakes, I found myself in a whole another train of thoughts:
With distance comes clarity. Perhaps, that’s why I love to distance myself, from myself. I travel, to the faraway, undiscovered parts of me. It’s almost shameless how I kiss my changing versions of every particular country goodbye. A new land’s sunrise sees my very gently altering personality- the one that I’d vow to give to only that land in which I wake up now, temporarily. Many have called it manipulative and many others childish, unstable and impulsive. I call it being me. A sworn nomad. If I do not selflessly give away my intricately woven particles particular to the specific country, am I even slightly myself? Certainly not. An empty canvas, I let the winds sneaking through the mountains to meet me, splash paint all over my soul. Red, green, yellow and blue, I am soaked in the very curious mystery of this rich life; rich in wet soil of knowledge, grounded roots of wisdom, and swaying leaves of freedom. “Je suis libre, mon chéri”, I lovingly hum to myself this and every other dusk. ‘Flow like water, your element!’, if only uplifting self-talk was enough to make all my fond ambitious dreams come to life.
‘Has anyone been to Iceland?’ asked my professor, and I was obviously ought to wake up in a thud. I turned around impressed at the raise of four hands. They are extremely lucky to have been to a place where 90% of energy is geothermally acquired from the currents produced in the Mid-Atlantic Ridge. ‘Why do you know that, you crazy woman?’, I sighed. If only I were blessed enough to be in Iceland right at this moment. Oh I would breathe in the night sky stolen away by the beauty of Auroras. I would act like wonder woman as I push away two tectonic plates underwater swimming gracefully in between just for a perfect camera shot. I would lick glaciers just to know what they feel like and maybe even take a moment to pray that they don’t melt.
Oops, floating in space again. I nodded in disappointment and disbelief a little like my mom would- disappointment because I am a spoilt kid who will chase her daring dreams in spite of her parents’ disagreement, and disbelief to the extent at which my thoughts could limitlessly wander with unrealistically high hopes. So I nodded and chuckled, carefully, so that nobody would notice. With all the time I waste each day juggling these fleeting thoughts of wanderlust, it felt kind of strange today as it was satisfying knowing in my chest that I am one step closer to my childhood dream, The National Geographic.
Never stop daydreaming,